Speak Comfortable Words.

No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead Than You Shall Hear The Surly Sullen Bell Give Warning To The World That I Am Fled From This Vile World With Vilest Worms To Dwell: Nay, If You Read This Line, Remember Not The Hand That Writ It, For I Love You So, That I In Your Sweet Thoughts Would Be Forgot, If Thinking On Me Then Should Make You Woe. O! If, I Say, You Look Upon This Verse When I Perhaps Compounded Am With Clay, Do Not So Much As My Poor Name Rehearse; But Let Your Love Even With My Life Decay; Lest The Wise World Should Look Into Your Moan, And Mock You With Me After I Am Gone.

Are You Sure/that We Are Awake? It Seems To Me/that Yet We Sleep, We Dream

Instinct Is A Great Matter. I Was Now A Coward On Instinct.

Two Lovely Berries Moulded On One Stem; So, With Two Seeming Bodies, But One Heart.

The Golden Age Is Before Us, Not Behind Us.